


The Battle after the War

by Cherikella



Category: Monchevy - Fandom, Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Feelings, Love, M/M, Philippe sulking, Sad Philippe, Talking, Uncertainty, a bit of PTSD, the Chevalier is trying to cheer him up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherikella/pseuds/Cherikella
Summary: After Philippe's return from war the Chevalier is happier than ever. However, his Monsieur is a bit different now and this makes things confusing for the Chevalier.Regaining Philippe's trust is definitely a battle the Chevalier wants to win.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I recently got into Versailles (2015) so here comes my first MonChevy one-shot! I hope you enjoy it ^_^

“You’re different.” The Chevalier said after a small pause.

Philippe remained silent, staring blankly at the fireplace, looking all curled up in his armchair, mind far away.

“I suppose that is a normal occurrence for someone who’s just returned from war.” The Chevalier continued, ignoring Philippe’s silence. “The devil knows what you’ve seen there. What you’ve been through.”

More silence.

“But, you know, you returned victorious. So that’s fun.” he chuckled but it sounded a bit forced, awkward without Philippe to join in. He decided to talk the awkwardness away as he usually did in such situations. “You’re currently more popular than your brother, Mignonette.” A small clever smile played on his lips. “More _loved_ than him, certainly.”

When Philippe remained silent the Chevalier decided to show with actions exactly how _loved_ Monsieur was. He settled himself near His Highness and leaned in, pressing a slow lingering kiss to the other man’s neck.

“Well?” he arched an eyebrow when Philippe remained still.

“Well what.” Philippe finally uttered, moodily.

The Chevalier sighed, getting up again. “Did you finally get bored of me?” he asked.

“Nothing could be further from the truth.” Philippe replied but his face and voice remained as detached as before. It was very unsettling, considering that the Chevalier always had a knack for getting emotional responses from the man. Besides, this apathy was foreign to Philippe’s otherwise passionate nature, which made seeing him like this very strange. The Chevalier wasn’t quite sure how to act now. Nothing seemed to work at the moment.

“Of course.” the blonde man said, flipping his hair with one swift motion of his wrist as was his habit. “But I can see it. You no longer want me.”

“Not now.” Philippe said, voice rather quiet. “Please.”

“I prefer you begging for other things.” The Chevalier quickly replied, kneeling down to look into Philippe’s eyes, hands on Monsieur’s thighs.

Philippe did not even glance at him.

“Is this because of… the other day?” The Chevalier finally asked. “when you returned and we--”

“No.” Philippe replied, still uninterested in talking.

“What then? This is not like you. You’re so…”

Finally the Chevalier’s words peaked Philippe’s interest. “So what?” he asked, raising his head so he could look the Chevalier right in the eyes.

“So… _different_! You hardly talk, rarely laugh, look all grumpy and gloomy, sit around cooped up in here all day and most of all, you don’t fuck me!”

“And you miss it?” Philippe asked, not sounding like he believed the Chevalier missed him at all.

“Well, yes! You should know!” the Chevalier replied outraged that Philippe had to even ask about that. Frankly, it should’ve been obvious by now.

Philippe sighed. “If you say so.”

And that was it. Interest lost, Philippe turned his gaze back to the fireplace, sunk into his armchair and fell silent once again.

The Chevalier rolled his eyes. 

“There you go again. Will you tell me what’s wrong? These days I feel like I don’t know you anymore.” this time the Chevalier frowned. He avoided frowning because he did not want the wrinkles but this time even he couldn’t help himself. Things were serious here!

“I know what you’ve been up to while I was gone.” Philippe said monotonously.

“You’ve been spying on me? That’s cute.” the Chevalier smirked. Spying meant interest, interest meant he still hadn’t lost his Monsieur after all. That had to be good news. But of course, if Philippe knew _everything_ the Chevalier was up to while he was at war… Maybe he was jealous? Was that it? Why now? The Chevalier thought they were over this. They lived in Versailles after all! Everyone fucked everybody here, what was Philippe expecting!?

“I didn’t have to spy on you in order to guess.” Philippe replied, finally some kind of emotion - disgust? bitterness? - creeping into his voice.

“Now, now. I never asked what have you been up to on the battlefield. All those long months, you expect me to believe you never had the occasional--?”

“Shut up when you don’t have anything clever to say!” Philippe cut him off, enraged. “You never asked! Never cared what went on there! You showed no interest whatsoever in what happened to me! What I saw!”

“But, darling, you wanted war. So war is what you got.” the Chevalier purred like a cat. Emotions. It’s good Philippe still had them. The Chevalier had began to worry.

“I did. And now let me be in peace!” he said, looking away from the Chevalier once again.

The Chevalier sighed. “Can’t we at least talk?” he offered.

“Why?”

“I missed your voice.” he tried again, finger idly tracing a line up and down Philippe’s shoulder.

“I asked you to come with me.” Philippe uttered grimly. “I asked you to come with me, but you refused. I’m not surprised. Not really. You’d rather stay here, in Versailles, cozy and comfortable, surrounded by the luxury _I_ pay for, gossipping and… otherwise occupying yourself, _finding new hobbies_..."

"Nothing new about my hobbies." He interjected. "You've known them all."

"Did you even think about me _once?"_ Philippe asked pained. _"_ I could’ve _died.”_

“But you didn’t. So need we be so grim?” The Chevalier gave him his own brand of adorable pout but Philippe did not show any signs of noticing it.

“If I did,” he said instead. “If I did die, would you mourn me? Or would you mourn the loss of your station?”

The Chevalier gave an exasperated eye roll. “You’re being unreasonable, Philippe.”

“Ah, well, that’s me all over, isn’t it? The _unreasonable._ Lucky for you, really, because if I had any reason in my head, I wouldn’t be keeping you here. I would’ve gotten rid of you like my brother does with his favorites. Like any sensible man would.”

The Chevalier flinched internally before catching on the bitter tones in Monsieur’s voice. So Philippe still cared despite his cutting words. It was not his intention to wound the Chevalier - he was hurt himself and that had to come out in some way. They had spent so many years together, the Chevalier knew Philippe better than anyone, so he now knew that all Philippe really needed was to be loved. The question was, would he permit it?

The Chevalier carefully slid his hands up his lover’s thighs, not breaking eye contact with Philippe, testing the soil, checking how much would His Highness allow today in this mood of his. Philippe only sighed, not particularly keen on the touch but seemingly too tired to fight it off.

The lack of enthusiasm put the Chevalier off. He pulled away, raising back up on his feet.

“I can’t do this, y’know. You don’t even look like you want me. And don’t tell me it’s you and not me because I know what you’ve been occupying yourself with lately. You don’t seem to have any problem doing it with others!”

“I never hid what I was doing, did I?”

“No. You made sure I hear about it and sometimes even see it with my own eyes.” 

Philippe shrugged. “Better than lying.”

“What did I ever lie about!?” He thought better to rephrase the question. “What _important_ thing did I ever lie about?”

“Are you seriously asking me this?”

“I am!”

Philippe looked at him for one long moment before rolling his eyes and then imitating the Chevalier’s manner of talking as he quoted the man's own words to him. _“I’ve been waiting months for this!”_

The Chevalier blinked puzzled. “Yes. So?”

“I know you didn’t wait for anyone so why lie about it? I don't mind who you do when I'm not around but at least be honest about it.”

“Is _this_ what was bothering you all this time? Is that why you’ve been so moody?”

“What do you know.”

“I didn’t lie.” he said firmly.

“Right.”

“I _have_ been waiting for you! All these months! True, I was no saint till then but that doesn’t mean I didn’t wait for you to be back! I missed you. So much! It’s different with you, why do you even doubt it?”

“Of course that’s what you’d say.” Philippe said. “I never doubted that you’d say it.”

“So what now, you want me out of court? You don’t want to see me again?” There was a hint of a challenge in the Chevalier’s voice. He was certain the Philippe he knew would never be able to send him away. The Philippe he knew worshiped him, prayed to him, adored him. But then again, he wasn’t sure he knew _this_ Philippe… It was vexing. Stupid war! What did it do to his Mignonette? 

“I don’t want you gone.” The words were so quiet that for a moment the Chevalier thought he imagined them because he wanted to hear them so badly. “I just don’t want to be made a fool.”

“You’re not a fool.” Was the quick response before the Chevalier added with a playful wink. “And you can beat up anyone who says otherwise.”

“And what do I do with those who do not say it but made me look it?” Monsieur asked, a little melancholic.

“I am not making you look foolish.” The Chevalier said firmly. “I am eye candy. If anything, I make you look _better_!”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Philippe asked, eyes still glued to some unspecified boring point in the fireplace.

“Because I’m gorgeous?” The Chevalier supplied generously.

“Because I love you.” Philippe replied in the same manner.

“As do I.” the Chevalier said, adding quickly. “And before you say I love _myself_ , I meant I love _you_.”

Philippe looked up and a small smile appeared on his beautiful lips, hopeful eyes gazing at the Chevalier like they did that first night they spent together.

“You’re my Mignonette. My little puppy.” the Chevalier said lovingly.

The smile was gone. “I’m the king’s brother, I shouldn’t be anybody’s puppy.”

“Who told you that? You are the king’s brother, you can be whatever you want. And I know you like being my puppy. Happy to see me, needing me with you at the front, missing me… Tell me, my love, how many times did you touch yourself, thinking of me on that battlefield?”

Another heavy sigh. “You think I’m a joke.”

“I do not!” The Chevalier’s arms were quick to wrap around Monsieur’s shoulders, eager lips pressing to the other man's face to trace kisses. “Do you really want to know what I think of you?” Another kiss, as his fingers slid down Philippe’s body, just a feather-light touch - enough to peak Philippe’s interest, making it hard for him to remain indifferent, but definitely _not enough._

“You think I’m one of your many--”

“You’re _mine_! That’s all. There’s nothing else to it. The others are irrelevant. Only you’re mine and that’s what I think of you. You’re so deliciously _mine_.”

Slowly but surely Philippe began responding to the kisses, needing more. _Finally!_

“You know me, Mignonette. You know my flaws and my vices and you love them all. But most of all, you know I love you. You knew it since the first day, didn’t you? I know I vex you sometimes, I know I can be… insufferable. But that doesn’t mean I do not love you. Don't you ever doubt that.”

Philippe let out his breath in a hopeful sigh, relaxing into the touches of his lover.

“You love me?"

"I love you!"

"For real?"

"For very real!"

"You would’ve been sad if I died in battle?”

The Chevalier chuckled a little. 

“Of course I would!" He said. "While you were away I almost went mad, desperately trying to find distractions for myself so that I don’t imagine you dying there! And it still didn’t work!”

“If I go to another war… will you come with me?”

The Chevalier hesitated a moment. “You know the answer to that."

"Of course..." 

"I’m not designed for war.”

“Is this the only reason you refuse me?”

“I--” The Chevalier suddenly fell silent, eyes cast down. If Philippe didn’t know any better he’d think the Chevalier shy. “I wouldn’t want to see you wounded… If something happens to you there, I’d rather just hear the dreadful news than witness them. I couldn’t take seeing it with my own eyes... “ He was fighting tears that suddenly demanded to fall down his cheeks. “I know this sounds terrible. I know I’m being silly and maybe even hurting you when I say it but-- I don’t want to be there when you die. I don’t think I could live through that.”

He looked down again, not able to take Philippe's gaze. He expected the king's brother to be offended by his words. The Chevalier was honest, he told Philippe the real reason why he dreaded joining Philippe at war but now Philippe would be upset with him again, thinking he didn’t truly love him. But he _did_ love him. That’s exactly why he could not survive watching Philippe hurt or dead. It was his way of doing things and it may appear frivolous or shallow but it held true sentiment. Underneath all the dramatics the Chevalier was only a man in love with a king's brother. He wondered if Philippe would understand him correctly when he himself wasn’t even capable of explaining himself properly.

Just when his mind was sinking deep into this black pit of insecurity - something he hated and was so unlike his usual cheerful nature - the Chevalier felt a hand on his cheek. A gentle caring hand lifting his head up and then a warm smile on Philippe’s face. Monsieur’s eyes were watery as if filled with unshed tears but his face was calm and loving.

“I guess I just mustn't die then.” He said, chuckling a little before they both burst into a strange combination of crying and laughing. They embraced one another and soon their hands began roaming all over each other’s bodies as their lips crashed into passionate kisses. 

 

Philippe d’Orlean died on 9 June 1701. The Chevalier died 18 months after him. Apparently life without his Philippe did not agree with him.


End file.
